


The Eagle

by orphan_account



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I tried to make it feelsy but probably failed lmao, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23254009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Khemu is murdered, Bayek is filled with a burning desire for vengeance that blood, and only blood, can fulfil.Aya does not understand his desire. She kills only for the good of Egypt, and not her own desires.Bayek hunts each and every one of his targets ruthlessly; he spares them no remorse, even sacrificing his own body parts to make sure they die. It is this ruthlessness that fuels the Hidden Ones.And yet, was it worth it for his son?(Spoilers for Origins)
Kudos: 1





	The Eagle

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! My first AC fic in years. So I haven't actually finished Origins yet. I'm only on the Crocodile. But I adore Bayek's character and I had to write for him. That being said this fic will be a passion project mainly, so it likely won't actually be finished until I finish Origins (and I'm playing through Odyssey right now...I'm getting sidetracked haha) and whenever I get around to updating it. Writer's block sucks.
> 
> As a matter of fact there isn't that much to work with regarding the Heron's death. What were Rudjek and his bodyguard actually doing in the pyramid? Did Bayek actually fight Rudjek? I have no idea so I had to use a bit of imagination. Hopefully you guys can enjoy it.

There was nothing more haunting than your mind actively working against you; seeming to replay a horrific memory over and over again, no matter how much you willed it to stop. The only thing that can stop it is blood.

Bayek of Siwa was learning of such suffering now. It had been mere weeks since the murder of his son, and not a day had passed in which he had not gruesomely relived the moment in his mind’s eye; not a night passed in which his dreams were not plagued by that dreadful moment, the moment the light left his son’s eyes; and the dreadful feeling of helplessness that followed.

Many would feel powerless to exact vengeance. Would just accept it and move on, falling deeper into the clutches of grief each day that passed. Bayek was not one of those. When the Ancients had decided that he did not know anything about the Vault, in fact; they released him. Bayek wondered if they spared him because they knew that the grief would be a fate worse than even death.

And yet; they were unaware of the grim mistake they had made. Bayek had refused to let the grief weigh him down. He redirected it into hot fury; let it consume him. Aya had spoken of the times when he was thinking of just what he would do to the Ancients who had murdered Khemu; the fire that nestled behind his eyes. She had said it didn’t look like him; the fury behind those eyes was not him at all.

Aya had not been so strongly fueled by vengeance as Bayek had been. Perhaps it was because she was not there. She was not forced to watch the life ebb from her son’s eyes. She had killed two of the Ancients, whereas Bayek was yet to make his first kill - but Bayek could tell she did not share the desire, the need, for revenge, to show that you could not cross a Medjay and get away with it.

A Medjay. It was unlikely they would ever have another child. Khemu was supposed to continue the bloodline; and now Bayek remained the last of the Medjay.

~

It had been a long year. A year, filled with grief, lament, and rage. A year spent hunting down his first target; the Heron known as Rudjek. Just one of the men who had been there, one of the men responsible for the death of his son. Aya had already made waste of the Ram and the Vulture. This one was Bayek’s.

Rudjek. The man’s face was almost burned into Bayek’s mind. How he’d sneered when Khemu was slaughtered. He would pay. He would pay.

That was how Bayek found himself trekking to the Bent Pyramid of Sneferu. What business the Heron had there, Bayek did not know. All he knew is that he must die.

He knew that Aya had tried to kill the man in the past, but had failed and been forced to retreat with moderate injuries. Since then, the Heron had been paranoid and never went anywhere without his bodyguard; however Bayek was certain he could handle it. He had to. 

Bayek dismounted his camel and slowly, hand at his belt to reach for his sword, entered the pyramid. The brazen sunlight blasting from the two entrances was enough light to see by without torch; and so Bayek descended, ears alert for any noise, anything out of the ordinary. He was more than aware that some tombs hid venomous snakes or scorpions - however if the Heron came here regularly he assumed they would’ve been cleared out. 

He heard a low chatter. Bayek crouched close to the ground, moving silently like a shadow. He could see them now. The Heron; and his bodyguard, Hypatos.

The two of them seemed to be in a clearing; earthy and dusty. They seemed to kneel at a sarcophagus of some kind. A lost loved one perhaps?

Then he should know how it feels, Bayek thought bitterly, and the rage that comes with it.

Rudjek himself appeared unarmed. Hypatos would be the main problem. Bayek edged as close as he possibly could without running a huge risk of being detected. Then, with an unearthly, rage-filled scream, he launched himself at Hypatos.

Rudjek yelped; and Bayek saw recognition flash in his eyes. “The Medjay from Siwa! K-Kill him!” the man gasped pathetically. 

Hypatos was taken off guard; allowing Bayek a free hit. They swiped at one another with their weapons; however it was clear Bayek had the upper hand, thanks to his superior knowledge and agility. With a fell swoop at the man’s chest, his sword striking soft flesh; Hypatos was crippled but not dead. He was not Bayek’s target.

With that, Bayek was free to descend upon Rudjek.

The men battled in a short fistfight. Bayek didn’t want to kill Rudjek like this. He wanted to savor it.

Bayek came out on top - the Heron was not in shape, not one bit - and soon; Rudjek was cowering against the ground, face bloodied and beaten.

He grabbed the Heron’s mask; it had fallen to the ground during the fray.

He approached the Heron. His teeth were bared in a maddening grin - a grin that seemed to paralyze Rudjek, as the man cowered back in terror, his eyes betraying it all. His back was up against the wall. He recognized Bayek. The fear in his eyes told it all.

“You are the Medjay from Siwa?” Rudjek’s voice trembled. As did his hands, as he reached into his pockets. Likely there was some kind of weapon concealed there. Bayek would need to exert caution. “I thought Medjays were supposed to protect the pharaoh.”

Bayek pulled an arrow from his shoulder - he had not even realized he had been shot - was Hypatos carrying a bow? - and examined the bloodied nose. 

“Medjay?” Bayek sneered, snorted. But it was not one of true humor. It was a sound of disgust. Of distaste that Rudjek had even considered bringing it up.

“I am Medjay to no pharaoh.” He spat the last word onto the dusty sand of the tomb. He was staring Rudjek in the eye now; and it was clear the Heron was frightened, trembling; backing up into the dusty wall as much as he possibly could; as if he hoped to melt into it to escape Bayek’s wrath.

“You see this?” Bayek motioned to the scars upon his biceps. Names. Of the men involved in his son’s murder.

Rudjek’s name was top of the list. The Ram and the Vulture were scratched out - in blood, more scars.

“I can read my own name, nek!” the Heron spat.

Bayek brought the head of the arrow to his skin. With a scream of some pain - but mostly rage - he brought the arrow across his skin, crossing out Rudjek’s name in his own blood. Bayek barely felt the burning pain. All he felt was pure rage towards this man.

“We will find you.” It would seem that Rudjek was trying to intimidate Bayek - but his voice trembled so, and in his current position, Bayek was not frightened, not one bit. “We will find you, in your sleep.”

He hurled a knife at Bayek’s face.

But Bayek was ready. He raised the Heron’s mask, blocking the attack. He examined the knife, now lodged into the mask, observing that it was the very same knife that had been used to kill Khemu. That only served to fuel his rage.

He stared at the Heron, stared him right in the eye. Then, mask in hand, he approached, feet kicking up foul dust from the ancient tomb.

“Sleep?” He spat the world. His eyes were wild and the effect it had on Rudjek was great. He was afraid. So afraid. As he should be; for a father’s wrath is not to be underestimated.

“I never sleep,” Bayek continued, spitting every word as if it were poison from his mouth. His teeth were gritted as he spoke; whether it was from pure fury or the pain of his injuries, even Bayek did not know. “I just wait, in the shadows.” 

He raised the mask. He could see the Heron bracing himself for the impact. Bayek was aware of himself panting, knew he was injured and tired but he would not acknowledge it. He would enjoy this moment, and every moment after it. 

“And I will kill you all.” Rudjek seemed to stiffen at those words - realizing that he was neither the first nor the last on Bayek’s list. His eyes flitted to Bayek’s arm, still dripping blood, back to his face. “Everyone who sniffed the air that day in Siwa!” 

The last word was screamed. Screamed with a mixture of rage, adrenaline, sadness, pain. But above all; the pure anger terrified Rudjek. He only had a few seconds to fear, however, as moments later Bayek brought the mask down; the knife embedded in it meeting its mark and driving itself deep into the Heron’s brain, killing him instantly.

A part of Bayek, a larger part than he would admit, wanted to have the Heron die a slow, painful, agonizing death. Let him suffer, as Bayek had suffered for so long after losing his son.

But that would make him no better than Rudjek.

He knew what separated him from Aya now. While Aya killed to defend herself, defend her family, and to protect all of Egypt, Bayek killed for revenge. As Medjay, saving Egypt from the slimy clutches of the Ancients was of course in his mind - but all he could think of was his son. The way he’d been killed so ruthlessly, how none of them had seemed to care about what they had just done - or the powerful enemy they had made.

Bayek’s breaths were coming quickly. His wounds began to throb as the rush of adrenaline slowly wore off, and he looked down at Rudjek’s face. The dagger was still embedded there, and blood streamed down into his eyes.

Bayek sighed. With two fingers, he closed Rudjek’s cloudy eyes and murmured a few Egyptian words; words that were said to grant safe rite of passage to the afterlife.

Gods knew that Rudjek didn’t deserve it. But every dead, no matter how evil, deserved some ounce of respect.

It was time to find his next target.


End file.
